


Deck the Halls With Spiteful Folly

by vials



Category: London Spy
Genre: Christmas, Crack, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Drama, M/M, Scandal, incredible levels of spite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8955412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vials/pseuds/vials
Summary: Short on cash at Christmas, Danny posts an online ad offering to be someone's fake date to bring to Christmas dinner, if for whatever reason they want to annoy, disappoint, and horrify their parents. Bitter at having to spend another Christmas with Frances and Charles, Alex answers the ad, and all hell breaks loose.(Absolutely inspired by the Thanksgiving Craigslist ad.)





	1. Chapter 1

_So, it’s Christmas. Time to visit the family and talk about how you’re still single! And have them make constant judgemental comments on your life choices! Want to settle the score? Look no further._

_My name is Danny. I’m a high school dropout with about three GCSEs to rub together, and I work odd shifts at a warehouse where I scan packages all day. This leaves me plenty of time for leisure, which usually includes heavy drinking and not insignificant amounts of drugs. I’m also really gay, if that sweetens the deal. I’m willing to be your strictly platonic date for Christmas dinner, where I’ll pretend to be in a very long and serious relationship with you. I don’t really care about the gender I’m with – if you’re a guy you can pretend to be gay for the holidays, or if you’re a girl I can be your clearly gay boyfriend in denial. It’s up to you._

_I’m really good at winging it and I’m incredibly good at offending people, so really anything you want goes, but to give you an idea of what we could do I offer the following services:_

\- Openly hit on other guests while you pretend not to notice/defend me/insist it’s normal  
\- Start heated and offensive discussions about religion, politics, sexuality, immigrants, etc  
\- “get caught” trying to steal valuables from the family home  
\- “get caught” doing drugs in the family home (no drugs will actually be present – it’s flour) 

_Finally, if you’re willing to pay a little extra, I offer the following service:_

\- A couple of local kids have agreed to pretend to be our sons for the day  
\- They are 14 and 11 and are already juvenile delinquents  
\- They’re down to help for the free Christmas meal and a small cut of the price 

_I do actually really desperately need the money right now so that’s something that will have to be negotiated before we do this, but if you’re interested contact me on the number listed. Don’t be alarmed if a girl picks up – it’ll be my flatmate. I don’t actually have a phone of my own. Merry Christmas!_

*

“You know, I didn’t actually think this would work.”

Danny stirred his coffee as he spoke, still hardly able to believe that he was sitting in a Starbucks with a person he had met barely five minutes ago. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he’d been expecting, but he knew what he _hadn’t_ been expecting, and it was pretty much word for word what was sitting across the table from him. Danny didn’t quite know what to make of him, and he was beginning to wonder if they were going to be able to make this work. He didn’t know if the guy would loosen up enough that it would be believable that they’d known one another for years, because he didn’t think he had ever met anyone so tense before in his life.

“It’s a very ingenious idea.”

“I suppose desperate times, and all that,” Danny said, giving a small smile. “Um. Did you ever say what your name was?”

The other man paused for a moment, seemingly having an internal debate, before he gave the smallest shake of his head.

“Before any of that,” he said, and Danny detected the smallest hint of urgency in his voice. “I need you to know something. I know I look like the last person you expected to respond to that ad, but I absolutely have to do this. I’ve been trying to get out of being invited back for Christmas ever since I left, and so far nothing I’ve done has managed to get past my mother. I even tried faking appendicitis once and she didn’t have any of it. She’s a beast. Perhaps this will finally put her off.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Danny said. “Or, at least like a challenge, which I suppose is what I’m looking for. I’ll tell Darren and Gaz that it’s a go on them coming along, then?”

“Are those the delinquents?”

“Yes,” Danny said, before pausing. “They’re actually nice kids. Their parents are just shit.”

“Bring them along. What do they want for Christmas? I’ll buy them whatever.”

Danny looked at him, stunned. “You know they’ll ask for like, every gaming console known to man, and like, every single piece of sports clothing ever made, and –”

“I know. I’ll get it all. It doesn’t matter, I have a lot of money. It’ll annoy my parents if they think I’m wasting it on all of that, especially for kids who I’m hoping will trash their house.”

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I have never been more serious in my life.”

Danny smiled. “I suppose we had better talk business, then.”

*

There was a secluded sofa at the back of the Starbucks, close enough to the doors for the toilets that no one wanted to sit there. They sat so close their knees were almost touching.

“My mother’s name is Frances, and my father’s name is Charles. They’re both retired, my father used to be in a fairly important but awfully boring government job, and my mother was his bitter trophy wife who would have absolutely done a better job than my father. She’s the one you’ll have to watch out for, but more on that later.”

Danny nodded, already realising that he would have probably benefitted from bringing a notebook.

“My legal name is Alistair, but anyone I actually like calls me Alex,” Alex continued. “They’ll insist on calling me Alistair and she’ll probably give you a speech about how it’s more proper, so make sure you never use anything other than Alex.”

“You do not look like an Alistair,” Danny said, frowning.

“Good. Tell her that, too.”

Danny glanced up at him, amused and, if he were honest, a little bit impressed. He had expected, had someone gone in for this, that it would be a hastily put together thing that would get the desired effect, but he hadn’t expected the other party to be so organised. It seemed Alex had put a lot of thought into this. Ordinarily Danny would have questioned why, but with Alex it seemed planning seemed to come naturally.

“They’re very into being proper, and being respectable, and not causing a fuss,” Alex said, rattling off facts like he had some kind of mental checklist. “So as you can imagine, the very idea of me settling down with someone even slightly less desirable would ruin them. I imagine they’d have a heart attack knowing that I even look at the working class, let alone talk to them.”

“And I’m assuming that being in a gay relationship with one of them and having two very working class adopted kids would be a total nightmare?”

“If there isn’t at least one near heart attack at the revelation, it’ll be a waste,” Alex said grimly. “As far as sexuality goes, they’ll pretend they won’t care, but they will. Her not so much, because I don’t think she’ll be as upset about that than she would be about your economic and educational situation, but he will especially hate it. He’s from that kind of generation, I’m sure you don’t have to imagine. And a government job, too – they were ruthless about it back then, and I’m sure he’ll be utterly beside himself with horror.”

“Act as stereotypically homosexual as possible,” Danny said, nodding. “Got it.”

“They have an utterly huge house that’s filled with all manner of useless rubbish. Sculptures, statues, art, there’s even a maze on the front lawn. Maybe Darren or Gaz can burn it down. I’m not sure. Tell them to go wild, at any rate.”

Danny snorted. “You’re sure about that?”

“I’m dead sure.”

“Good to know. Alright, next order of business. What are your parents’ opinions on controversial topics?”

“Politics, conservative. Religion, they’re not particularly religious themselves, but he’s distrustful of “foreign” ones. They both think immigrants are the worst idea since Hitler’s father winked at Hitler’s mother and told her to come to bed.”

Danny snorted again, and unless he was mistaken, he was sure he saw Alex’s mouth twitch, too.

“If you want to create tension between the two of them, and I’m sure you do,” Alex continued. “They have very opposite opinions on gender roles. He’s very traditional – the woman stays at home and if she absolutely has to get a job, she should be a secretary or a seamstress and that’s that. She’s the complete opposite. She has much more appropriate views; it’s probably the only area where she does. She’s also incredibly bitter that my father got such a nice job when she would have done it ten times better, and the only reason she couldn’t was because she was a woman. Admittedly, she is much more motivated than him and certainly much more intelligent.” Alex paused, giving Danny a pointed look. “She is very intelligent, actually, so watch her closely.”

“You think she won’t buy it?”

“She’ll be suspicious from the beginning,” Alex said. “I suppose we’re the same brand of spiteful, and it would cross her mind that I might do something like this. It’s unlike me to have anyone, and I’m talking anyone. I’ve never connected well with people and I’ve never been very good at any kind of relationship. I think, privately, that she’s come to terms with the fact that I’ll never settle down. To show up suddenly with a long-term partner and adopted children will look very suspicious, but selling it to her is key. If she has no choice but to accept it, that will be the thing that gets to her. It’ll be nothing to do with who you are.”

“What will it be to do with?” Danny asked, frowning.

“It’ll be about the fact I managed to keep it a secret from her,” Alex said, and he did smile then, something almost dark glittering in his eyes as he did so. “Even just injecting enough doubt into her mind will be enough. We’re going to have to plan this out well.”

Danny couldn’t quite explain it, but there was something in Alex’s look then that made him loathe these people. He nodded, determined.

“We have a week.”

*

“’Ere! Did you really get us all them presents?”

“Put your seatbelt on, Gaz,” Danny said firmly, twisting around in his seat. “I know for a damn fact you probably have weed on you back there, so maybe try not to get us pulled over.”

“Alright, alright,” Gaz said, slumping back in his seat and clicking the seatbelt. “But I still wanna know the answer to my question.”

“Don’t you want to wait and see what Santa got?” Danny asked, glancing at Darren, who snorted.

“Like fuck we do,” the eleven-year-old said. “I wanna know if I have the new Grand Theft Auto.”

“I got you everything you wrote down,” Alex said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “And some other things that you don’t have to like but will probably annoy my parents even further.”

“No shit?” Gaz asked, as Darren let out a triumphant whoop. “And we get to keep it all, yeah?”

“You get to keep everything.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Gaz said, laughing. “There’s gotta be some kind of catch. You’re not gonna like, kidnap us or some shit, are you?”

“Would you care?” Darren piped up. “Fucking free shit, man.”

Danny looked over at Alex, amused, and he thought that Alex looked rather pleased with their setup, too. 

“Still down for this?” Danny asked, once Darren and Gaz were too busy talking about what they were going to do with their loot to pay attention to what they were saying in the front. “You can still turn back.”

Alex seemed to grip the steering wheel that little bit tighter. “I’m committed.”

“At least you’ve won them over,” Danny said, jerking his head towards the back. “They’ll listen to you, within reason, now you’re certified yourself as the guy that gets them cool presents. And they’re not stupid. They know we’re here to piss people off, not get arrested.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said thoughtfully. “I think a half dozen police cars showing up on the lawn, sirens blaring, might really set the festive season off.”

Danny laughed. “Don’t encourage them.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. We’re responsible parents trying our best, and they’re damaged.”

“That’s a point,” Danny said, turning around in his seat again. “Guys, if they ask why you’re adopted – not that they will, because that’s rude –”

“They will,” Alex put in.

“Alright, so _when_ they ask why you’re adopted, what’s the story?”

“My parents got me taken off them because I was born hooked on crack,” Gaz said, shrugging. “I don’t remember them and I was bounced around a load of foster homes.”

“Nice,” Danny said. “Darren?”

“My parents died when the house burned down,” Darren said.

“That’s tragic,” Danny told him.

“The police don’t know how I made it out,” Darren continued. “And there was petrol in the hallway.”

“Alright,” Danny said hesitantly.

“And on my hands,” Darren added. “But they couldn’t prove anything because I was five.”

“That is… really original, well done, Darren,” Danny said, as Alex smiled again. “Well, I think we’re all sorted.”

*

Alex hadn’t been joking about the house. Danny didn’t think he had ever seen a building so unnecessarily large or so thoroughly miserable in his whole life.

“You actually grew up here?” he asked, and Alex gave a grim nod.

“I would say it grows on you, but it doesn’t,” he said. “Oh, and I hope you all brought proper winter clothes, like I told you. It’s never warm in there.”

“What’s with all the creepy statues?” Gaz asked. He was lighting a cigarette, having made it an entire five seconds out of the car before doing so. Danny, out of habit, was about to tell him to hide it, before he remembered and changed tactics.

“Give us one.”

“Get your own.”

“How many have I given you? I bought you that bloody packet. Hand one over.”

“Nuh-uh. I gave you the money and you went into the shop and got them for me,” Gaz corrected, though he handed one over. “Big difference.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We’re going around the front, by the way,” Alex told them. “I thought about just going in through the back and having her wonder why there were two strange kids in the house, but I figured a proper introduction would be better. She’ll likely be watching the front, because I know she suspects something.”

“How does she already suspect something?” Danny asked.

“Well, for a start, she always suspects something. But secondly, I only put up a bit of a fight when she invited me this year, so I’m sure she knows I’m planning some form of revenge. And she isn’t wrong.”

“Of course she’s wrong,” Danny said, grinning. “We’re a loving family. Look at us. Perfect picture of domestic bliss.”

It was an amusing sight – Danny and Gaz smoking away, Darren jabbing buttons on his mobile phone, some bass-heavy music thudding from his headphones. As promised, Danny had gone for what was perhaps the gayest thing he could find in his wardrobe, some tight fitting things in garish colours that usually never saw the outside of the clubs on pride night, and the kids were wearing their rattiest sportswear. Alex, as usual, looked impeccable. If he let himself think about it, Danny didn’t think it would be all that hard to pretend like he had been head over heels in love with Alex for several years. 

“Alright,” Alex said, as they came around the side of the house. “Everyone on their best behaviour. And by that, I mean do your worst.”

*

True to form, Frances had parked herself in front of a discrete window on the second floor of the house, with a good view along the front driveway. She was dressed to the nines, as always, and holding a wine glass, as always, and she was suspicious, as always. She soon saw that she had good reason to be.

“Did Alistair mention he was bringing guests?” she asked Charles, on her way down to head them off at the door. Charles was in his study, though what on earth he did in there nowadays Frances never knew.

“He didn’t mention it,” her husband said, bored. “You were organising the Christmas plans.”

“He mentioned he had something to tell us, but I didn’t think it would be this,” Frances said, tutting. “For heaven’s sake. You would _think_ he would have bothered to let us know if he was bringing half of the local soup kitchen.”

“He’s bringing who now?”

“I don’t know who they bloody well are. Good lord, this was an awful idea.”

“If you hate it as much as everyone else, why do you insist on doing it every year?”

“Principle,” Frances said briskly, draining her wine glass and stalking down the hallway.

She had almost made it to the front door when there was a rapid banging on it, followed by a voice she didn’t recognise but that couldn’t belong to a boy over the age of twelve: “Merry Christmas, Granny Moneybags!”, followed by an older and noticeably _camp_ voice, giving a half-hearted “ _Darren_!” For a moment she was filled with such instinctive _dread_ that she briefly considered pretending that she and Charles had pissed off for a sudden and very unexpected Christmas vacation to somewhere – anywhere – that wasn’t here, but then she abruptly remembered that she had _known_ Alistair was up to something, and that this was probably just her being proven right. She set the empty wine glass down on a podium that had once held the marble bust of someone or other, she couldn’t remember considering they had started the refurbishment years ago, and steeled herself in front of the door. She was clearly going to need all her strength for whatever was behind it.

Frances swung the door open with an equal expression of curiosity and confusion. Alistair was there, a shy but polite smile firmly in place, and next to him – holding his hand, Frances noted – was a smaller, dark-haired man that she could have almost pretended was a short-haired woman if it hadn’t been for the tight shirt revealing a flat chest. In front of them, chewing gun and jabbing at a mobile phone, was a boy of about eleven, head shaved at the lowest setting, and standing just to the side was an older boy, maybe fourteen, with slightly longer hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips.

She decided to focus on the area of least concern.

“Alistair! You’re early.” 

They looked at one another for a moment, and she hoped to god that her face was just as inscrutable as his.

“Surely that’s a good thing?” he asked.

“Well, of course, but I wasn’t expecting – you must introduce us!” Frances managed to gather the strength to flash everyone a very believable smile, and then leaned back into the hall to take her irritation out on Charles instead, which would be nothing unusual. “ _Charles_! Will you come down here? Stop being so _rude_.” She turned back to the group on the doorstep, forcing another smile as she waved them in. “Come on, come inside. He’ll be down in a minute. I suppose he wasn’t expecting you to be early and he’s fallen asleep again. _Charles_!”

She felt hopelessly outnumbered once they were all in the hall, large as it was. The dark-haired man nudged the younger boy, tapping at his ear to signal the headphones.

“Take them out for five minutes, would you?”

“But I like this song.”

“How many times have you heard it?”

The child sighed, pulling his headphones out of the phone before stopping the music, causing a brief and very audible burst of “ _‘til the sweat drip down my ball-'_ ” to be heard. There was an awkward silence as the lyrics faded, and then the boy laughed.

“Whoops,” he said. “Know the song, granny?”

“I can’t say I do,” Frances said.

“I can play it if you like.”

“Perhaps later,” Frances said, before realising she sounded tellingly short. “I’m sure I can deal with a few swearwords if you love it so much.”

She stole a glance at Alistair, who, to her annoyance, was too busy apparently in quiet conversation with the dark-haired man. They did look admittedly fond of one another. 

Frances fought back the urge to sigh. He was up to something, she knew it, and she would be damned if she didn’t find out what.

*

They were in the lounge when Charles finally showed his face, an entire ten minutes later. By that point, Alex and Danny were already sipping at wine, and Gaz and Darren had cans of something sweet and fizzy that Gaz had dug out of his jacket pocket, though they had already sampled the wine from Danny’s glass and declared it “crap”.

“ _There_ you are,” Frances said as Charles walked into the room, and Alex didn’t know if he was being wishful or if she sounded genuinely relieved to see him for the first time in living memory. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d show up.”

“And who’s we?” Charles asked, sitting stiffly down in the nearest chair, which was a good two chairs away from everyone else.

“Yes, who _is_ we?” Frances asked, turning back to Alex. “You haven’t introduced us yet, though I suppose that’s Charles’s fault.”

“I’m sure you’ve worked it out,” Alex said, and Danny noticed he did a very good job of coming across almost shyly. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, and I don’t live close enough to just stop by, so sorry if it’s a bit of a shock. With things getting so serious, I thought it was about time I told you.”

“Getting serious,” Charles repeated flatly. “Well, now I’m more confused than ever.”

“I thought it would have been obvious,” Alex said. “This is my family. These are your grandchildren.”

Admittedly, Danny found it a struggle not to laugh. Between Charles looking as though someone had slapped him clean in the face, and Frances’s impressive but just ever so slightly over the top excitement, he didn’t know how he was going to make it through the rest of the evening, let alone the rest of Christmas. 

“Well, that’s _wonderful_! Why didn’t you _tell_ us, though? I have to admit I’m a little hurt. Adopting children is no small thing, and I’m sure you’ve been planning it for _years_. How come you never told us sooner? You must have been going through the process for at least a year, and then for the two of you to be together long enough to decide you _want_ children in the first place – how long has it been?”

“We’ve been together for three years,” Alex said.

“Kind of,” Danny put in.

“We were on a break for a while after Danny’s arrest,” Alex added.

“Nothing serious,” Danny said quickly. “Just a mishap with some drugs. They weren’t even mine. I was holding them for a friend and the police showed up and well, you know how it is with police.”

“No,” Charles said slowly. “I don’t.”

“Well, that’s all water under the bridge now,” Alex said hurriedly. “It was a rough patch but we got through it.”

“And decided that kids would definitely bring us closer.”

“So that’s when Gaz and Darren came along.”

“We’ve been a happy family for two months now!”

There was a pause long enough that Alex enjoyed some satisfaction, before Frances managed to recover. Alex noticed, in her true fashion when she was overwhelmed, that she went straight for the least loaded question.

“‘Gaz’?” she repeated. “That’s quite an unusual name.”

“It’s short for Gareth,” Gaz piped up. “But no one calls me Gareth. It’s a _well_ stupid name. I don’t look like a Gareth.”

“He won’t even answer to it,” Danny said, laughing fondly. “It’s a nightmare at school, when he decides to show up.”

“Be the same as calling you Daniel, wouldn’t it?” Alex asked Danny, who gave an overly exaggerated shudder.

“Can you imagine? Or calling you Alistair. No offence,” he added to Frances and Charles. “But Alex looks like the last person I would expect to be called Alistair.”

“Personally,” Frances said, her words very deliberate now. “I find whole names to be rather charming.”

“Good luck, granny,” Gaz said, and this time Alex joined in the fond laughter as well.

*

“Can you hear them?” Danny asked quietly, after he’d finished tugging a cardigan over his head.

“Looks like we’re already creating some tension,” Alex said, giving a small smile as he stepped away from the door. “She’s telling him to grow up because he doesn’t think it’s appropriate that we’re sharing a room, let alone a bed. She says that’s ridiculous, considering we’ve been together for years and have children. He says that it’s still inappropriate and it’s his house. She’s reminding him that if we’re being technical, a great-great-great grandfather of his finished paying for the house so technically it’s his, and also he’s an old fashioned old brute who needs to get with the times. Of course, she doesn’t exactly believe in all that herself, but any excuse to yell at him.”

“They seem wonderfully happy together,” Danny said, grinning. “So, everything you hoped for so far? I have to admit, they don’t seem as horrified as I thought they would be.”

“Oh, you don’t know them,” Alex said, moving over and sitting heavily on the bed. “She’s angry, but not for the right reasons yet. She isn’t sure what the scam is, but she knows there is one. She’ll be trying to find out.”

“What will she do?”

“She’ll pry,” Alex said simply. “We need to get our story straight, and with the boys as well. Everyone needs to know how we all met, and if we have to add any details, we need to let the others know. We need to keep track of everything we’ve already said, too. Do you remember what you were apparently in prison for?”

“Drugs,” Danny said simply. “Weren’t mine. I’m bitter about it, but so long as I didn’t lose you I’m alright.”

“Good. We’ll have to think of a solid meeting story. I’ve found that when you’re making a cover story, there’s a fine balance. Too many details looks suspicious, and small details can be fact checked, even if it’s the weather on a certain day. Too little, and that looks suspicious too. Not to mention there’s too much room for adding to it and not letting the other know. The key is to make sure the story is consistent, no matter what it is.”

“And we need to step up with the whole being in love act,” Danny put in, and Alex looked at him.

“How so?”

“Well, maybe you just don’t notice it – I’ve noticed you’re not exactly a very physically affection person – but she certainly will, if she’s looking. Some of it we can pull off as me being one of those touchy-feely gays or whatever, but you need to be a bit more comfortable around me. Maybe sharing a bed will help with that.”

“I didn’t realise I was being uncomfortable.”

“Not uncomfortable as such, but kind of distant considering we’re meant to be head over heels in love and have probably been fucking every night for years,” Danny said simply, and he couldn’t ignore the slight blush that came to Alex’s cheeks. “Oh lord, Alex, you can’t start blushing at things like that. You’re in a committed relationship.”

“I know,” Alex said hurriedly. “You can just be rather crude.”

Danny laughed. “I’ll keep saying it until you get used to it.”

“I don’t know how well that would go down.”

“It’s meant to go down badly.” Danny sat himself on the bed next to Alex, still slightly endeared by the pink in his cheeks. “Come on. We’re probably going to have to get caught snogging at least once. Or a little footsie over Christmas dinner. Take this as your advance warning, and think of the bigger picture.”

Alex’s mouth twitched with a slight smile. “I suppose when you put it like that.”

“She might be on to us, but you said so yourself that she doesn’t know where to look. Maybe we can make her think I’m hiding a worse criminal record or something.”

“That might be a good idea,” Alex said, before glancing at his watch. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. We’re going to have to spend a lot of time with them. We’ll think of our cover story in the morning, and then try and corner Gaz and Darren and let them know what’s up.”

“I’ve told them to be noisily searching for alcohol sometime tomorrow morning,” Danny put in. “I’m hoping one of the house staff will find them and there can be a bit of morning drama.”

“Good. That’ll buy us some more time before breakfast to think of our answers to the inevitable interrogation.”

They sat in silence for a moment, before Danny couldn’t help himself and began to giggle quietly. 

“Sorry!” he whispered, pressing a hand over his mouth. “I’m just remembering… well, everything, really, but specifically ‘these are your grandchildren’. Oh my god.”

Alex looked amused too, giving a small shrug. 

“I thought I had to make the moment suitably touching.”

“I thought they were going to die.”

“I thought I was going to die, never mind them.”

“You are one very unusual man, do you know that?” Danny asked. “Not to mention an interesting one. Anyone who goes along with a scheme like this has to be.”

“That’s flattering, coming from the mastermind of said scheme.”

Danny laughed again, before letting himself flop back on the bed. 

“With all this being said, I’m glad I get to do this with someone I get on with. It would be a lot more difficult otherwise.”

“I suppose we both got lucky,” Alex said, and Danny tried not to think about how warm that made him feel.


	2. Chapter 2

“They’re up to something.”

Frances was staring out of the window again, though this time of the morning called for her to replace the wine glass with a mug of coffee instead – significantly Irished up, of course. Behind her, Charles fastened the buttons of his shirt with stiff fingers, shaking his head slightly at his reflection.

“It’s a lot of effort to go to,” he said, when it became clear she wasn’t going to let him get away without commenting.

“It is,” Frances agreed. “Which is all the more reason to believe that Alistair planned this.”

“You think he deliberately went out to find the most unsuitable… _friend_ to bring home?” Charles asked, sounding more bored than ever.

“No,” Frances said firmly. “I think the whole bloody thing is a sham. When have you ever heard Alistair talk about settling down? About having kids? Christ, the man barely talks to anyone. Where did he meet this man? And since when was he gay?”

Charles winced slightly at the word, and Frances rolled her eyes.

“As if that’s the worst part of this, Charles.”

“I’m just saying that it’s odd to be so comfortable faking that if there’s not some truth to it.”

“I would hardly call Alistair _comfortable_ ,” Frances snorted. “I don’t think that’s a word I’d ever use for him. And anyway, I could deal with him being gay so long as the rest of it is bollocks.”

She thought that Charles had plenty to say about that, but thanks to the sudden outbreak of noise down the hallway, he didn’t get the chance.

*

“I don’t know _what_ kind of ideas you have here, but I’m telling you: our son is not a thief! He wouldn’t _ever_ – Gaz, honey, no smoking in the house, please – _dare_ do anything—”

“If that’s the case, then how come I _saw_ him with my own two eyes –”

“What’s going on here?” Frances interrupted, though she thought she already had a good idea. “Lorraine? What’s all the racket about?”

“She’s going to say she saw Gaz thieving,” Danny said quickly. “Even though I know that’s not true. He wouldn’t. Not since the last arrest, anyway, but he learned his lesson. Didn’t you, Gaz?”

“Yeah,” Gaz said, puffing on a cigarette. 

“I saw him,” Lorraine said, glaring, before turning to Frances. “He was downstairs in the dining room, taking all of the silver. I saw him. I’m pretty sure we’re missing a few bottles of alcohol, too. The brandy, of course.”

“What child steals _silver_?” Danny asked. “Do you think kids these days stand on street corners and deal in precious metals?”

“I’m sure they’ll sell anything that looks expensive enough!” Lorraine said, indignant. “Especially if they have a cigarette habit to fund.”

“He only has a couple a day!”

“I’m trying to quit,” Gaz said, grinning. 

“For god’s sake,” Frances put in. “This can be solved fairly easily, don’t you think? Empty your pockets, child.”

“You can’t do that!” Danny protested.

“You can’t search somebody else’s child,” Alex said calmly, from where he had been watching from the bedroom doorway.

“I suppose I can trust you two to do it, then?” Frances asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you steal anything, Gaz?” Alex asked, and Gaz shook his head.

“Nope. I didn’t steal nothing. Even if I could I wouldn’t. If I get in trouble now I go to juvie, and I don’t wanna go there.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”

“Nope.”

“So empty your pockets.”

With another grin, Gaz turned his trouser pockets inside-out, and then jamming his hands right into the deep pockets of his jacket. There was nothing there.

“See!” Danny said, bordering on hysterical. “This is discrimination.”

“And there’s nowhere else he could have put them?” Frances asked, turning to Lorraine, who scowled.

“Well, I don’t know. I didn’t watch what he did with them. I was _hoping_ the parents would give more of a damn than they did.”

“I would give a damn if my son was actually guilty,” Danny said, and Frances could already see the circles this would go in if she let it.

“Enough,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s Christmas Eve. I’m not spending it playing cops and bloody robbers. If they show up, they show up. Until then, innocent until proven guilty. Are we clear?”

“He didn’t do it,” Danny insisted.

“I’m sure he’s a wonderful child,” Frances said, keeping her gaze firmly on Alex, who stared back, giving nothing away. “Now everyone hurry up and get dressed. Breakfast is in ten minutes.”

*

“I’m not sure what you did, Gaz, but it was good,” Danny said, when they were gathered in he and Alex’s room waiting to go downstairs. “Nice twist, having them not know where the stuff is.”

“I don’t know where it is either,” Gaz said, shrugging.

“Wait, what?”

“Alex took them,” Gaz said. “I don’t know what he did with them.”

Danny turned to Alex, who looked just as unreadable as always.

“I thought we weren’t meant to be aiding our sons in their theft?”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t have intervened, but this was too good an opportunity,” Alex said. “Anyway, we should head downstairs.”

“Are you not going to tell us what you did with them?”

“You’ll find out later,” Alex said. “But the less you know about it, the better. If she interrogates any of us, well. She can’t find out what you don’t know.”

“This is starting to sound worringly dramatic,” Danny said uncertainly.

“Is she gonna shine one of them bright lights in our faces?” Darren asked. 

“Gonna rip out our fingernails looking for her silver,” Gaz added, laughing. 

“Just trust me,” Alex said, and Danny didn’t really have a choice.

*

The fire was pleasantly warm, and with the overcast day outside threatening snow and the soft lights looped around the bookshelves, Danny could almost pretend that he was in the middle of a picturesque Christmas. He supposed it would be no good to forget that he was actually in enemy territory.

He took a sip of his drink, mainly to do something with his hands. He wasn’t going to pretend that it wasn’t awkward, and he was sure he had been cornered. He could think of no other reason why Frances would want to speak to him alone, and take such effort in make it seem coincidental. 

“So,” she said, smiling. “How did you say you met Alistair again?”

_Ah_ , Danny thought, as he returned the smile.

“We didn’t say, actually,” he said, keeping the polite smile. “It’s a little bit unconventional, but it’s a funny story.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Danny remembered what Alex had warned him about – no doubt Frances was going to take what Danny told her and memorise it, and then cross-reference it with what she found out from everyone else she asked. He was going to have to get the balance right between enough information to be realistic, and not so much that he could contradict what the others might say. For all he knew, she had already asked them, and this was simply a test.

It was ridiculous to think about how nervous he was, and he tried not to dwell on it. He had heard enough interrogation jokes form the boys to last him a lifetime; he didn’t want to start giving power to the fantasy.

“It was purely coincidental,” Danny continued, with all the excitement that he usually held when telling people of how he had met his (real) partners. “Though I suppose all the best meetings are. He got me out of a spot of trouble, actually, which was very nice of him. Nothing bad,” he added, hurriedly. “But I would have probably got a kicking if he hadn’t given me a lift. We got talking and the rest was history, really. Well. I got talking, mostly, for the first chunk of the trip. I think I kind of freaked him out at first. Not surprising, really, considering the only impression he’d got of me before was me hysterically asking for a lift _after_ I climbed into the car and with an angry mob on my tail.” 

He paused, blinking, and then gave Frances his best reassuring smile.

“It wasn’t a real mob,” he added quickly. “Just a couple of uncles I’d pissed off. And a few cousins. And a few friends. How many people need to be present for it to be a mob? You know what, never mind. That’s not what you’re asking.”

Frances stared at him for a long moment, taking several long sips from her drink before she answered.

“That is certainly unconventional,” she said. “Do you… tell everyone this story?”

“Well, it _is_ how we met.”

“I mean to say do you have any more appropriate stories for Alistair’s side of things? Unless of course he hasn’t thought to tell any of his colleagues that he has a family.”

Danny shrugged. “He tries to keep it all separate. I think some of his colleagues know, but they don’t know the details. I doubt it comes up, you know? Like, how many times at work do people sit you down and ask how you met?”

“He hasn’t told his friends?”

It was a trick question; one that would have probably tripped Danny up if he wasn’t so good at picking up on things. He supposed that was a talent that was going to come in handy in this place.

“He doesn’t really have friends,” he said casually, and he didn’t miss the slightly annoyed look that flashed through Frances’s eyes. “He’s not very sociable, is he?” Danny asked, driving the victory home. “I mean, not that that’s a bad thing. But it does take some getting used to.”

“Yes, well,” Frances said, and to Danny’s immense satisfaction she sounded almost annoyed. “Alistair seems to be full of surprises lately.”

*

“You don’t strike me as the reckless type, Alistair.”

Alex managed to avoid letting the tension show in his shoulders; of course she would ambush him at some point, though he truly hadn’t expected her to appear in the doorway of his room and hover there, preventing his convenient escape.

“I wouldn’t say I am,” he said evenly, closing the drawer carefully so Frances wouldn’t hear the missing cutlery clinking together where he had wrapped it in several of his shirts. “Did anything prompt this?”

“Why would anything prompt it?”

It was a stupid question, unnecessarily defensive, and Alex knew she was flustered. He fought the urge to give a small smile.

“I just thought something might have put the question into your head before you saw me,” he said. “Because otherwise you would have been inspired to ask it in the last couple of seconds, and I don’t personally see anything overly reckless about putting some clothing away.”

She stared at him for a moment, in the way she always did when she was trying to work out what hill she wanted to die on. Evidently it wasn’t this one, because she let the comment go without acknowledgment.

“Daniel was just telling me how you met,” she said instead, and Alex didn’t change his expression.

“Oh?” he asked. “And have you decided to scold me for it? You’re a bit late.”

“Apparently you decided it would be a good idea to let a complete stranger get into your car.”

“He let himself in, actually.”

“And you didn’t lock the doors?”

“Well, I was in the process of getting in, too,” Alex said, allowing a slight hint of confusion to enter his voice, as though he thought that fact was obvious and couldn’t comprehend how Frances hadn’t connected the dots. “It was some lucky timing, actually. I think they would have probably given him a decent kicking otherwise.”

“And that didn’t concern you?”

“It concerned me, but not enough to kick Danny out of the car and leave him to his fate,” Alex said, finally allowing himself to sound a little annoyed. “And just as well, considering he explained on the way. It wasn’t his fault. He loaned his uncle some money and the uncle wouldn’t give it back. He decided going medieval would be the appropriate response to Danny asking when he would get the money back. Nothing more.”

Frances stared at him for a long moment, and Alex got the impression that this would be a much longer lecture if not for the fact they could be interrupted at any moment.

“You know that was ridiculous,” she eventually said, in a hushed tone. “With what you do, and the fact you didn’t know him – it could have been a ploy!”

“Could have been,” Alex said. “But given the vast amount of other evidence, I was fairly certain it was legitimate. Is that everything?”

Frances stayed silent.

“Good,” Alex said, as he edged past her. “You know I can’t _stand_ your spying lectures,” he added quietly, as he passed her, and got much satisfaction out of feeling her stiffen with anger.

*

“Nah, it was more like ten people, weren’t it?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Darren, it weren’t that many. It was like eight people.”

“More than that.”

“No.”

“Dad always said that it was ten people.”

“Well dad had been in the pub for like five hours by that point so can you really trust him?”

Frances had to physically fight the urge to leave the room in search of more alcohol. It seemed that Gaz and Darren couldn’t settle on any part of a story without arguing over the fine details for at least a couple of minutes; they had only just reached the technicalities of the apparent mob and she was foreseeing a long wait ahead of her. She sighed and drained the very last drops from her glass of wine. 

“Let’s just say it was _nine_ people,” she eventually cut in. Gaz and Darren looked at her, suspicious.

“Pretty sure it wasn’t, but alright,” Gaz eventually conceded. 

“So what happened _then_?” Frances asked, fighting a sigh.

*

Gaz was smoking again, and Danny and Alex had given up trying to tell him not to do it in the house. As a result they were smoked in, taking refuge in the kitchen while not daring to open any of the doors or windows in case of eavesdropping. The kettle was boiling loudly beside them, drowning out any possible noise from the overly clandestine meeting.

Or at least, Danny would have thought it was slightly over the top, if it hadn’t been for Frances’s ongoing and ruthless interrogation tactics.

“I suppose you _did_ warn us that she’d go after the kids, too,” Danny eventually said, his voice as hushed as he could make it while still being heard.

“What did you tell her?” Alex asked, looking at the boys.

“Just what you said,” Gaz shrugged. “But we fogged it up a bit, yeah? Can’t have her thinking it’s too practised.”

“What do you mean… fogged it up?” Danny asked hesitantly. He glanced at Alex. “Was that part of the plan? Whatever it is?”

Alex shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“Fogged it up?” Danny asked again, looking at the boys.

“Chill out,” Gaz said, shrugging. “We just did a bit of improv.”

“Argued a bit,” Darren put in. “Over the details, right? Don’t brothers do that?”

“We wanted to see how long we could keep her listening for.” Gaz grinned. “We kept her there for like, an hour. Didn’t we, Darren?”

“Bout that, yeah.”

Danny glanced at Alex again, trying to work out if they were in trouble or not. “What do you think?”

“She would probably be angrier at the time wasting,” Alex said, after a moment’s thought. “That was clever, actually.”

“But we all stuck to the story, right?” Danny said quickly. “Just making sure. I don’t want her coming out of nowhere and interrogating me on something Darren or Gaz said that I have _no_ idea about. And don’t look at me like it. It practically was an interrogation. She’s been around all of us now. Christ, she’s going to be calling family members next.”

“Good luck,” Darren said, laughing. “My parents died in that tragic and unexplained fire, yeah?”

“We’ll just assume that we’re in the clear,” Alex said. “No doubt we are. I don’t think she would be the type to stay quiet if she found out something. We just need to make it through tomorrow, and then we can make some excuse.”

“Won’t that look weird?” Danny asked. “If we just vanish like that?”

“No,” Alex said, looking genuinely confused. “Why would anyone want to stay after Christmas is over?”

“What if she wants to come back with us?” Gaz piped up, putting the fear of god and heaven into Danny. He looked at Alex, wide-eyed, and found himself almost infuriated at how unreadable Alex’s face was.

“Yes, Alex,” he said, his voice strangely high-pitched. “What _if_ she decides she wants to come back with us?”

“Don’t you think I’ve already taken care of that?” Alex asked, before answering Danny’s confused look. “I said I made a lot of money.”

“Yes, but --”

“A _lot_ of money.”

There was a pause, and over the fading hiss of the kettle, a door close by opened and closed again.

“Scram,” Danny whispered, as they all headed for various different exits.

“Meet back here tomorrow same time,” Alex added urgently. “Remember the protocol. Does everyone remember?”

“Dishcloth on the heater, safe to come in,” Gaz said, bored.

“No dishcloth, go to the fallback,” Darren chimed in.

“And where’s that?” Alex asked.

“Centre of the maze,” the kids chorused.

*

They were awkwardly seated around the dinner table when Charles lumbered in at his own steady pace, oblivious or just simply not caring about the fact that he was more than two minutes late. This fact had not slipped past Frances, for whom two minutes might as well be two hours and who had been sipping wine and seething about it for at least ninety seconds of the total time.

“So nice of you to join us, Charles,” she said, as he seated himself stiffly in his chair.

Charles didn’t dignify her comment with an answer. He settled himself, peered around, rearranged some of the cutlery on the table, and then something seemed to trip in his memory because he looked at his wife, frowning.

“I did mean to ask you,” he said slowly, every word appearing to be an effort. “Why is the good cutlery in our bedroom?”

There was a pause. Danny fought the urge to look at Alex, knowing instinctively that he shouldn’t. Instead, he looked at the boys, who were looking at one another with expressions of both confusion and glee. 

“Why is the—what are you talking about?” Frances asked, but her voice sounded more hesitant than angry.

“I’m talking about all the missing cutlery being in our bedroom,” Charles confirmed leisurely. “If I’m not mistaken,” he continued, in the slow, stilting way that old men tell stories, “the cutlery that went missing earlier this morning is now neatly piled up under one of my shirts. I noticed that it was on the ground in the closet, and when I lifted it up, there it all was, in an empty shoebox.”

Frances immediately looked at Alex, and then at Danny, and then finally her gaze lingered on the boys. Gaz stared back defiantly, but Darren sniggered into his plate.

“I don’t know, Charles,” she said, addressing her husband but not moving her gaze. “Why is that?”

Danny saw his chance.

“I do hope you’re not trying to say our sons did that?” he asked, already allowing his voice to start at near hysterical. “This is unbelievable! You were all doing this earlier, and now – you’re just determined to paint them as thieves, aren’t you? Alex – will you _tell_ her?”

Alex was silent for a long moment, looking slowly around the table but focusing on no one. Finally he spoke, his voice as usual devoid of anything telling.

“Danny’s right,” he said slowly. “It is rather suspicious. We determined earlier that the boys didn’t have anything on them. If they showed up the master bedroom, there’s no way that they could have run up all those stairs and hidden them there, before Lorraine had the chance to go after them or see them do it. They don’t even know their way around that part of the house.” He paused, looking at Frances now. “I would say it’s highly suspicious, actually.”

“You’re trying to suggest that I _stole_ my own silver and hid it away in an attempt to frame the children?” Frances demanded. Alex shook his head.

“No,” he said calmly. “I’m simply pointing out that it would be impossible for the boys to have done it. Your guilt in the matter was entirely your own saying.”

For a moment there was nothing, and then Frances shot Alex a glare that Danny was fairly certain would be able to curdle dairy products. She held the glare for a long moment, during which time Danny wondered how Alex didn’t wither under it, and then she finally turned her attention to Charles.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded. 

Charles finished his mouthful of food before speaking; a process which took an agonisingly long time in the silence of the room.

“I don’t understand,” he said, after he had finished dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “I wasn’t aware that I had a part in this, unless you counted discovering the cutlery.” 

“Well, I didn’t bloody put it there,” Frances said, angrily sipping her wine. “And apparently neither did Gareth—”

“Gaz.”

“—or Darren. So who was it?”

Her gaze went to Danny, who looked outraged, and then to Alex, who remained impassive.

“I guess it’s a mystery,” he said, when she continued to stare at him.

“A bloody mystery!” Frances burst out. “Oh, I’m sure! I’m sure that’s all it is. Because there’s no possible way you could be up to anything, is there, Alistair?” 

“Oh, Frances, give it a _rest_ ,” Charles sighed from the end of the table.

“No, Charles. I will _not_ give it a rest. You know as well as I do that –”

The outbreak of outraged arguing that followed involved everyone but Alex. He sat there, Danny thought, looking almost pleased with himself.

*

Alex’s triumph didn’t last long after the meal. By the time they were walking to their room, he looked worried. Danny glanced behind him, before quickly turning back and whispering hurriedly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Alex said, also glancing behind him, before he quickly pulled Danny into a small alcove. It looked as though there had been some kind of table or statue there, due to the darker patch of floor, but wherever it was now was unknown. They paused, standing impossibly close, and heard nothing but silence around them. Even so, Alex’s voice was a whisper when he spoke again.

“I think she’s onto us,” he said, still regularly glancing out into the hallway. “I knew she wouldn’t quite buy it, but she’s not buying it as much as I hoped, either. She’s going from the kind of annoyed that we want, to the kind that’s dangerous. The cutlery will distract her for a few hours, but she’s going to be on her best game tomorrow.”

“So what do we do?” Danny whispered back. “We need to throw her off.”

“We do. We need a distraction. A big one. I know the presents are going to annoy her, but it won’t be enough to convince her that it’s legitimate. She knows that I have a lot of money, and that I don’t particularly care for spending it on much more than the necessities. I would spend even less if my job didn’t require that I dressed in someone’s yearly rent every day.”

Danny snorted, allowing himself the brief moment of humour. He thought he would explode otherwise.

“So a huge distraction, then,” he said, biting at his lip in thought. “Preferably something scandalous, yes?”

“But nothing that can get you into trouble,” Alex said quickly. “She’s getting spiteful. If we pull another trick that hints at crime, she’ll probably call the police just to spite us.”

“Ah,” said Danny, who was thinking about the countless drunken escapades that had probably been caught on CCTV all over London, and wondering whether or not he would be a recognisable face to a police force this far into the country. “Yes, I can see why that would be a problem.”

“Have you got _any_ ideas?” Alex asked. “I’ll be good with the practicalities but I think the scandal itself is more your forte than mine.”

“I suppose that wouldn’t be unfair,” Danny said, before giving a small smile. “This whole thing was my idea, after all.”

They heard the footsteps at the same time, quiet and creeping, and Alex had just enough time to glance at Danny before Danny grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him into an awkward but passionate kiss. Luckily Alex seemed to catch on fast; by the time the voice caused them to spring apart, he had recovered from whatever shock might be visible.

“And _what_ idea might that have been?” Frances asked, folding her arms, though both Danny and Alex thought she looked a little uncertain. Danny let himself go red; he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but Alex’s ears could have looked a touch pink themselves.

“Oh, you know,” he mumbled, while Alex cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. “Just a little canoodling in a hallway. Probably not my best idea. Sorry.”

She looked back and forth between the two of them, and finally she spoke, her face still holding a hint of suspicion but not enough that Danny and Alex thought she had heard anything else.

“Maybe keep that to your room,” she said, unfolding her arms and brushing down the front of her trousers. “I have no issue with your lifestyle, but I must draw the line at all kinds of public excessive displays of affection, regardless of the genders involved.”

“Understandable,” Danny said quickly.

“Apologies,” Alex said, just as quickly, and then hurried down the hallway before she could ask any more questions, feeling her eyes on their backs the whole time.

*

“Sorry about that,” Danny said, once they were in the relative safety of their room, the door firmly closed behind them. “That was probably a bit forward, but I couldn’t think of anything else that might throw her off.”

“No, it’s fine,” Alex said, swallowing. “I thought it was rather ingenious, actually. It tied in to what she overheard very well. A good bit of thinking.”

Danny gave a small smile. “Still. I get the feeling you would have probably liked some warning.”

“Such things are not always possible,” Alex said, sitting heavily on the bed. “Hopefully it will keep her distracted for the evening, at least. I know we’ll be required back downstairs for Christmas Eve drinks, which will be fun, giving the current climate.”

Both of them thought back to dinner.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Danny eventually said, laughing, and Alex gave a small quirk at the corner of his mouth but said nothing more about it.

“While it’s nice to count our victories,” he said. “We do need to think about the plan ahead. We’re going to need something big. Something that will really throw her off. I just have no idea what. I can hardly ask Gaz or Darren to set fire to something.”

“Well, you could,” Danny admitted. “But I thought the whole idea was that we were trying to _avoid_ the police.”

“This is something worth remembering,” Alex admitted, sighing. 

“Listen,” Danny said. “I might have something. I don’t want to give you too many details right now, because I don’t even know if it will work. We’ll try and think of plan Bs, but if this does work I don’t think we’ll be needing them.”

“Can I have a clue?” Alex asked, slightly apprehensive.

“It involves an extra party,” Danny told him. “A good friend of mine. He can be trusted. Um. Do you have a phone?”


End file.
